


Three Sheets to the Wind

by mousapelli



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:12:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9418019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousapelli/pseuds/mousapelli
Summary: Three times Victor and Yuuri broke in a bed, and one time it just broke.





	1. Hasetsu

**Author's Note:**

> I am all about the domestic fluff, man. I can't believe I spent all week writing this. 
> 
> First section set sometime during episode 4, the rest are post-canon.

"You're going to stay, right?" Victor murmured. His voice right in Yuuri's ear, coaxing and low, made Yuuri's flush creep from his cheeks down his neck.

They'd been working, sitting on Victor's bed and listening to the newly completed "Yuri on Ice," splitting the headphones with an earbud each in one ear while they floated choreography options, but honestly that hadn't lasted long. Doing anything on Victor's bed these days inevitably led to kissing, kissing to making out, and lately making out to serious petting. The anxious part of Yuuri that never shut the whole way up kept hissing about how they were wasting time, that he was using up his time with Victor so stupidly, but when Victor's hands were on him, Yuuri found that part of himself much easier to ignore. 

Victor had spent the entire summer slowly but inexorably wooing Yuuri both on and off the ice, and at this point Yuuri was entirely helpless to it. Victor was half on top of Yuuri right now, knee flung casually across Yuuri's thighs, and when he lifted his head enough to breathe, all Yuuri could focus on was the blue of Victor's eyes. Everything else was fuzzy without his glasses, set safely aside after last week's popped lens incident, but Victor's face was close enough to still be sharp, eyes bluer than…

…something really blue. Yuuri could never think straight with Victor so close. He nodded, answering Victor's question. 

"All night?" Victor asked. He brushed the tip of his nose against Yuuri's nose, mouth hovering so close but not back down on Yuuri's, where Yuuri wanted it. "Can I finally have my sleepover?"

Yuuri tried to take a deep breath, but it seemed to get stuck halfway down his chest. It should be no big deal, right? For two people who'd been having a thing for months to spend the night together. It wasn't some kind of secret from his family, and Victor had been so patient whenever Yuuri started getting uncomfortable…Yuuri knew that was how it should be if you had a lover who really cared about you, but he still felt a bit guilty about keeping sexy playboy Victor Nikiforov all to himself and then not even putting out. 

"O-okay," he agreed. "I think—" he didn't manage to say what he thought, because Victor's mouth was already back on his, driving the thought he was trying to have right out of his head. Yuuri's hands drifted up, under Victor's shirt, like they had a mind of their own and couldn't resist the smooth muscles of Victor's back. He ran fingers down Victor's spine and Victor all but purred into his mouth. One of Victor's hands was cradling the back of Yuuri's head, fingers threaded through his hair, and it made Yuuri feel safe and sexy at the same time. 

That was weird. Making out with Victor was often weird, in the sense that Yuuri could never quite wrap his mind around the fact that he was doing it. It felt like he was having a weird dream and would wake up and find out that the poster of Victor had fallen off the ceiling and landed on his face. 

Not that he'd had a poster of Victor stuck to his ceiling at any point, and even if he had, it certainly wouldn't have been the Limited Edition B2-sized poster from the 2012 NHK Trophy of the exhibition costume with the V that went the whole way down to his navel and the hot pink laces only half done up. Nope. 

"Yuuri, pay attention," Victor coaxed, used to the way Yuuri tended to glaze over a bit in the middle of things. His hand was under Yuuri's shirt too, Yuuri realized, his palm warm where it was curled around Yuuri's side. "I want to take this off, all right?"

"Yeah," Yuuri agreed, and then, more bravely than usual, "You too?"

"Of course," Victor answered, looking pleased. He sat up enough to strip off his shirt. Yuuri reached for the hem of his own T-shirt, ignoring the lingering sense of embarrassment that stripping still left him with, even after having his skating figure back. 

He certainly didn't see why Victor would make such a fuss about his body, anyway. Yuuri squirmed. "You're staring."

"You're gorgeous," Victor said, making Yuuri squirm even harder. Victor laid two fingers against Yuuri's collarbone and dragged them slowly, slowly down to his stomach. "All mine. My delicious katsudon."

"Stop bringing that up," Yuuri huffed. "You're the idiot asking me about eros when you knew I'd never had a…" Yuuri hesitated. He'd never had an anything. 

"Boyfriend," Victor finished. "Well, you've got a boyfriend now, haven't you? We can talk more about your eros now, if you want."

"I'd rather you go back to kissing me," Yuuri grumbled, annoyance making him a more effective bedroom talker than anything else ever did. Victor was only too happy to oblige, warm skin sliding against warm skin as he recaptured Yuuri's mouth and worked his fingers back into Yuuri's hair. 

Yuuri really liked that thing Victor did with the hand on the back of his head, mmm. Eventually Victor moved on to kissing Yuuri's jaw and neck, and Yuuri really liked that too, digging his fingers into Victor's back when Victor pressed just a little with his teeth. 

"Tell me what I can do to make you happy," Victor said. 

"Exist?" Yuuri answered, not really attending to what he was being asked. Victor laughed, the puff of warm air against Yuuri's throat making him shiver. Victor lifted his head to look Yuuri over, and Yuuri forgot about everything except blue again. 

"Sweet. But I meant…" Victor slid the tips of his fingers just barely under the waistband of Yuuri's sweatpants, grazing the skin so lightly, tentative. "Tell me what will be all right, right now."

"O-oh." Yuuri didn't know what the right answer was, where the line was between what he wanted and what he could handle. He wanted to make Victor happy, too. "I-I. Don't know. What about you?"

"To see you naked," Victor said right away, as if he'd already had his answer set in mind. His bluntness about sex always made Yuuri feel thrilled and awkward at the same time, but with Victor's bare chest against his own, the thrilled percentage was decidedly higher. Victor kept going, apparently not done. "To make you come. To finally break in this bed."

"Eh?" Yuuri blinked. "You've been sleeping in this bed for two months."

"Not with you," Victor said. "Why do you think I bought such a big one, hmm?" Yuuri shrugged, blushing again. "Don't play dumb now, Yuuri. When a man moves to another country and buys a bed this big, he's clearly hoping to share it."

"You did bring the dog…" Yuuri couldn't help but point out. Victor eyed him steadily, not pushing but waiting. "Let's try the…what you said. I want to."

"Can I?" Victor asked, making sure. Victor always made sure. Yuuri wished he hadn't made it so that Victor felt like he had to check every single step of the way, but here they were. "Honestly?"

"Let's try," Yuuri repeated. He wasn't sure 100%, but maybe he never would be. Maybe just giving up and letting Victor take care of him wouldn't be the worst thing. It couldn't be worse than the amount of worrying he was doing about it. "I…want to see you, too."

"Yuuri," Victor murmured, kissing Yuuri deeply, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. He undressed Yuuri the same way, kissing each new piece of skin as it was revealed to him, leaving Yuuri a flushed, trembling wreck. It was entirely unbelievable that Victor would press lips against Yuuri's hip, his thigh, his knee, more unbelievable that Victor would stop to cup Yuuri's heel in his hand and brush gentle fingers over the bruised top of Yuuri's foot. It was too much, unbearable. 

"Please, just…" Yuuri had no idea what he was even asking for, not with Victor tossing aside his sweatpants and still sitting between Yuuri's knees. He reached to cover up how he was mostly hard just from that, and Victor caught his wrist. "Please."

Victor wrapped a hand around Yuuri's cock, just gripping it tightly for a second before stroking down and up, watching Yuuri's reaction. Yuuri gritted his teeth against a whine when Victor kept on doing it. Should something so simple feel that good? Was he weird for being so hard as soon as Victor touched him?

"I cannot imagine what you're worrying about up there," Victor said, and Yuuri looked away guiltily. It was terrible how easily Victor could read his face. "But I'm going to make you forget about it." Victor shifted, and when Yuuri looked back, Victor was hovering over his cock, hand holding it steady at the base, obviously about to put his mouth on it. "Yes?"

"Please," Yuuri whispered again, like he had forgotten all the other words, and then he forgot that one too when Victor actually did it. His mouth was shockingly warm even against Yuuri's flushed skin, slick and amazing and of course he knew exactly what he was doing, fucking Victor, swallowing Yuuri until his lips met his fist. Yuuri's hips ached to move but he felt frozen, breath caught in his throat at the sight of Victor between his thighs, his cock sliding in and out between Victor's kiss-puffed lips. "V-victor…"

"Hmm?" Victor asked, and when Yuuri didn't answer, he pulled his mouth up, sucking gently at Yuuri's tip for a moment before pulling his mouth away entirely. He rubbed his cheek against Yuuri's damp skin, eyes fixed on Yuuri's face, thumb rubbing the underside of Yuuri's cock as the rest of his hand squeezed, not quite stroking. "Yes?"

"W…" _Wait_ Yuuri was trying to say, but he was drawn too tight already, trembling with it. Victor turned his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to Yuuri's cock, and that was the end of it, the tension dissolving abruptly as Yuuri came with enough force to squeeze his eyes shut and curl his hands into fists. 

When he cautiously opened one eye a few seconds later, Victor looked just as surprised as Yuuri, mouth a pink O, blue eyes wide. Yuuri's come was streaked up his cheek. There was some in his _hair_. Wretched with mortification, Yuuri covered his face with both hands, his skin scarlet hot under his palms, and bit down on his lower lip hard, trying not to cry. 

Why was he the worst at _everything_?

Victor laughed, breaking the silence, or more like giggled. He crawled up Yuuri's body to lie beside him, trying to tug Yuuri's wrists away from his face. "It's all right, are you all right? You just surprised me."

"Sorry," Yuuri managed in a strangled whisper. He let Victor pull his hands away but hid his face in the curve of Victor's neck right away. "I didn't—I never—"

"I don't care," Victor soothed, wrapping arms around Yuuri and rubbing his back in wide, warm circles. "I just expected, with your stamina…" Yuuri gave a helpless wail, and Victor tried not to laugh, but Yuuri could feel his chest shaking with it. "Look at me. Come on."

Yuuri lifted his head just enough to almost do it, although his eyes still cut to the side. Victor took hold of his chin with two fingers and forced him to actually look. 

"Everything's fine," Victor told him. He still looked like he always looked at Yuuri, affectionate and bemused and relaxed. "You felt good, right?" Yuuri nodded. "I didn't do anything you didn't like?"

"N-no," Yuuri whispered. The panic was mostly gone, but the empty space where it had been was filling up with Yuuri's frustration at himself. "Sorry."

"Why sorry?" Victor asked patiently. Yuuri shifted a little; the things he felt bad about ended up sounding so silly when Victor made him say them out loud. Was he sorry for being too turned on? For coming so easily? For being a ridiculous mess in front of Victor? Victor surely was used to that by now, at the very least. 

"I just am," Yuuri mumbled, resting his forehead back against Victor's shoulder. "I'm not sexy at all, huh?"

"Only you," Victor said. He was doing that thing with the back of Yuuri's head again; Yuuri supposed he must have figured out how much Yuuri liked it. "Don't you think it feels pretty amazing to make your lover come by barely touching him? Wow."

Well. All right, Yuuri hadn't thought about it like that. That was probably a pretty big ego boost for at least one of them. 

"But practice does make perfect," Victor was already murmuring, dragging Yuuri out of his thoughts to keep up. "You'll let me do it again, right?"

"Not yet!" Yuuri protested, but it just made Victor laugh again. Of course he hadn't meant right that second, Yuuri scolded himself. Ugh. "Right. Yeah. Yes? If you want."

"Of course I want to. I want to do everything with you," Victor said, pulling Yuuri that much closer and pressing kisses along his hairline, across his forehead. "I'll keep telling you until you get it. I want all of you."

Victor was hard against his stomach, Yuuri realized suddenly. He was still waiting for Yuuri to pull his act together, and all Yuuri had done so far was come in his hair and then cry. He could do better, Yuuri thought, certainly better than this. 

"Can I…" Yuuri worked a hand between them to brush fingers against the line of Victor's cock. 

"If you want to," Victor said, and then, because even Victor had some limits, added in a rush, "I really want you to."

"Me too." Yuuri edged his hips back so there was enough space for him to wrap his hand around Victor's cock properly. Victor was so hot against his palm, hard just for him, and when Yuuri squeezed, moved his hand just a little, Victor made the smallest, cutest noises. This was a kind of eros too, Yuuri supposed, the way that holding Victor made him feel a little powerful at the same time as he felt awed by it. 

Victor flexed his hips into Yuuri's grip. "Are you teasing me?"

"No," Yuuri said, although he supposed he must be. "Show me how you…"

" _Yes_ ," Victor agreed, his hand curling around Yuuri's a second later. 

They worked Victor together, tighter and faster than Yuuri would have dared do, but Victor's small noises grew steadily louder and cuter, encouraging. He went silent just before he came, limbs taut and trembling for a long span of seconds before everything went slack. He collapsed half on top of Yuuri, heedless of the mess and Yuuri's hand still trapped between them. 

"Was it okay?" Yuuri asked anxiously. Victor opened one eye, half-lidded and amused. Blue as ever. Victor didn't bother answering in words; he simply pulled Yuuri down enough to fit their mouths together and then kissed him until he forgot what words were for anyway. 

"Still staying?" Victor asked eventually. They'd pulled a blanket over their hips but mostly were still lying there, Victor alternating between kissing Yuuri and watching his face as he ran fingers over Yuuri's cheeks and through his hair. "Would you rather be alone?"

"No!" Yuuri exclaimed, his vehemence making Victor smirk. Yuuri grabbed Victor's wrist to hold his hand still while Yuuri rubbed his cheek against Victor's palm. "I want to stay here."

"Eeeven if I might take advantage of you again?" Victor asked, gathering Yuuri in close enough to tease, roaming fingers against Yuuri's side and smooched kisses against Yuuri's flushed cheek. "I can't possibly resist when you blush so cutely, you know."

"Victor!" Yuuri protested, digging his fingers into Victor's arm until he stilled. "I suppose it's fine. If that…happens." Victor raised an eyebrow, and Yuuri gave him a small, hopeful smile. "Seems like I need practice, right? My stamina's my only good point, you did say."

"I did NOT say," Victor protested, but he let Yuuri kiss him until both of them forgot what they were arguing about.


	2. St. Petersburg

Yuuri was adorable, Victor couldn't help but think, investigating every corner of Victor's apartment like a cat, silent in his socked feet and blinking curiously at everything. When he came to the bedroom, Yuuri paused in the doorway, looking over Victor's bed, made neatly for the last eight months since he'd been here, Victor's furniture, the window that only looked at the wall of another building even if the curtains were drawn. 

"Is it too small?" Victor asked, coming up behind Yuuri. He wasn't prone to anxiety generally, but he wanted Yuuri to like it here. "We have enough time, we could find another place."

Yuuri looked over his shoulder, smiling happily. "No, it's perfect. Let's stay here."

"You're perfect," Victor gushed, throwing arms around Yuuri and squeezing him tight from behind, burying his face in the curve of Yuuri's neck. "I'm so happy you like it. I'll get rid of some things, I promise."

"I'm Japanese, I don't need a lot of space," Yuuri assured, like he was some kind of compact kitchen utility, and Victor started laughing and couldn't stop, relief making him giddy. They were going to move in here together. Yuuri was going to come home with him. "Victor, you're shaking. Are you all right?"

"I was worried you'd hate it," Victor confessed. Yuuri reached back to palm his cheek and Victor nuzzled into it. "You're sure it's all right?"

"Honestly, you realize I've only ever lived in my parents house and a college dorm, right?" Yuuri snorted a little laugh. "Just the fact that I don't have to worry about anybody hearing me jerk off makes this a palace."

"Yuuri!" Victor laughed harder. "We've been on a plane for fifteen hours and you're already thinking about getting me into bed? You're _insatiable_."

"That's not what I meant!"

"I love it, come on," Victor was already pushing Yuuri forward at the same time as he was pushing hands up under Yuuri's sweater. "I need to put on fresh sheets anyway, we might as well mess these ones up first."

"Your hands are freezing! Victor!" Yuuri's knees bumped the end of Victor's bed, halting their progress. He was blushing as he turned to face Victor, but he looked happy, and more importantly, relaxed. "Hey. Does this bed need broken in too?"

Victor blinked, about to say that he'd clearly slept in it hundreds of times, before he realized what Yuuri was really asking him. "Oh! I've never brought anyone else back here."

"Really?" Yuuri looked equal parts skeptical and pleased. "You've lived here a while, right? There must have been at least a few…"

"Hotels," Victor explained. Of course there had been some people, but he'd always thought it easier, safer, to do that sort of thing in places where he was free to escape on a plane the next morning. "Nobody else that I wanted to bring home."

This place had been just for him for so long, the place where he kept the small pieces of himself that weren't for the ice, for fans, for performance. Eight months ago he couldn't have imagined sharing that with anyone. Now all he wanted was to share this space with Yuuri. 

"Nobody at all? Wow," Yuuri said, imitating the overblown way that Victor said it. Victor narrowed his eyes. "I don't know, this is a lot of pressure. After you waited so long to break this thing in, can I really make it worth your while?"

"You can certainly try," Victor said, bending his head to kiss Yuuri deeply. After a minute, though, he paused to add, "Assuming you put some lube in your carry-on because it's two in the morning so the drug store is definitely closed."

"How romantic," Yuuri said, wrinkling his nose, but he heaved a sigh and went to check his bag. He returned with the zipped plastic bag, travel-sized lube nestled in with the tiny toothpaste and Victor's insanely overpriced face wash, and Victor told him he loved him without a trace of sarcasm. 

Victor showered first, alone or they wouldn't get anywhere, and it felt heavenly to stretch out naked on his back in bed, lower back aching from the plane. He didn't feel tired, but he must have drifted off because he was startled awake by Yuuri climbing into bed beside him. Yuuri threw a leg over Victor's waist, his weight pressing Victor down pleasantly into the mattress. Memory foam. Oh, he'd really missed this mattress. 

"Tired, old man?" Yuuri teased. He shifted his weight, and Victor couldn't hide all of the wince. "Your back again, huh? Aren't you supposed to be some kind of athlete? I forget what kind."

"It just needs to be stretched properly," Victor sniffed. "Are you going to help or not?"

"You could have been doing this while you were waiting," Yuuri scolded, but he slid off Victor's waist and urged Victor's left leg straight up, sole of his foot facing the ceiling. He pushed on the back of Victor's thigh, increasing the stretch until Victor whined. "Baby. You aren't breathing into it."

"Because you're torturing me!" Victor protested. 

"You asked me to." Yuuri kept his hand flat on the back of Victor's thigh, watching his face and feeling for when the muscle gave into the stretch. "Switch." 

Maybe bedtime yoga wasn't exactly what Victor had in mind when he'd suggested breaking in the bed, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. At least he had Yuuri's full attention and Yuuri's hands on his skin. Even if he had to do the hated Thread the Needle twice on both sides before the ache in his back subsided to something more tolerable. 

"I'm telling Yurio you aren't doing those flexibility exercises he gave you," Yuuri said. "They're for your own good."

"Nobody loves a…" Victor couldn't think of the word in English, too travel-tired to call it up. " _Spletni-skazki_. Gossip teller?"

"Tattletale," Yuuri corrected, smiling. "Apparently _you_ love one." Yuuri ran a hand down Victor's thigh, fingers trailing to his knee and back. "Would you rather sleep? This can wait until morning."

"No no no," Victor protested, holding out his arms imperiously until Yuuri fell down into them. Both of them were chilled, the heat of the shower long gone from their skin, and Victor rubbed hands down Yuuri's back and the backs of his arms until some of it returned. "I demand we christen our apartment thoroughly. Bad luck to do otherwise. Seven years of silver medals."

"That's if you break a mirror," Yuuri retorted. He was already kissing Victor's neck, and Victor tilted his head back for more, sighing happily. 

"Better not to chance it." Victor urged Yuuri more squarely on top of him, spreading his legs to get Yuuri settled in between them before curling them around the backs of Yuuri's thighs. "Look, it's just like stretching."

"Impossible," Yuuri scolded him between kisses. "Moron. Spoiled. I love you."

"Mm, yes, you forgot handsome, though." Victor wrapped a hand around Yuuri's neck to pull him close enough to murmur directly in his ear, "I love you, of course," in that syrupy way that always made Yuuri squirm. "I want to stay just like this."

"Of course you do," Yuuri muttered. 

Victor had no shame at all about how much he liked Yuuri's fingers working him open, and here in this apartment, he had even less shame about vocalizing how much he liked it. 

"Exactly like that," Victor praised as Yuuri curled his fingers. "Ohhhhhh."

"You're being weird on purpose," Yuuri scolded, but he didn't stop what he was doing, and that was the important thing. 

"I'm not!" Victor pushed down against Yuuri's fingers, trying to work them in deeper, until Yuuri took away his leverage by pushing Victor's ankle up over his shoulder. Victor gave another showy moan. "We've just never done it without sharing a wall with someone you know. I was being sensitive."

Yuuri opened his mouth, and then closed it. Victor wondered if he was squinting cutely like that because he was thinking or because his glasses were on the bedside table. Yuuri pushed in the third finger and Victor stopped wondering about anything except exactly when Yuuri was going to hurry up and fuck him already. 

"That time at the rink," Yuuri said, and that brought Victor up short, breath catching in his throat just remembering. Yuuri had only let him get away with it once, just after Yuuri had fucked him the first time and for the next two weeks Yuuri had been so insatiable that Victor could barely keep up with him, as if he were making up for all the lost time. Even so, Yuuri had been so mortified by what they'd done, pressed up against the barrier, skates still on and clothes shoved barely out of the way, that Victor had never been able to talk him into a second time. "Nobody was there to hear. You weren't nearly so loud."

"My mouth was busy," Victor pointed out, still kind of being a jerk. He certainly regretted it now, now that he thought about how amazing the acoustics would have been if he'd really gone for it. Yuuri twisted his wrist and Victor whined, open-throated. "What about you, hm? I want to hear you too, you know. I'm sure I can make you louder somehow."

"No chance," Yuuri said succinctly. "I'm Japanese."

"Why is that your answer to everything today?" Victor wanted to know. He planted his foot against Yuuri's shoulder to push him back, hissing as Yuuri's fingers slipped free. "Darling, my life, my inspiration, if you do not get inside of me _right this instant_ I am going to make sure the entire block knows about it."

'Want it that bad?" Yuuri asked, slicking his cock and moving to lean over Victor, spreading his knees for better balance on the unfamiliar give of the mattress. 

" _Yes_ ," Victor snapped, and then when Yuuri finally started pushing inside him, "Yessssss."

Victor wrapped arms around Yuuri's neck to cling shamelessly as Yuuri settled on his elbows. He didn't even mind that Yuuri was doing little more than simply being inside him, weighing him down into the mattress, still giving Victor time to adjust which Victor barely wanted any of. But the closeness was nice, the heat of their skin together and the smell of Yuuri's shampoo, the dark brown of Yuuri's eyes when he lifted his head from pressing kisses against Victor's sternum. 

"Ready?" Yuuri asked. Victor wanted to kiss him very badly, but the height difference meant he would have to wait and occupy himself with other things. 

"Please," Victor said, more than ready to be taken care of, for Yuuri to have him. He moaned Yuuri's name on the first thrust, mainly for show after making such a big deal about it earlier, but then Yuuri bent his head to bite down on Victor's collarbone and the noise Victor made after that was entirely involuntary. 

Everything Yuuri did to him felt good, every touch, from any position, but Yuuri had a particular way of fucking Victor once he'd found a good rhythm that made Victor crazy. It was steady and regular like a heartbeat, like he could do it forever, and it melted Victor from the inside out, especially in this position where Victor was relaxed and holding up none of his own weight. It cut into Victor all the more when he could see Yuuri's look of concentration, how all of his focus was squarely locked on to Victor, like a laser straight to his heart. 

And to his cock. Most things that Yuuri did went straight to his cock, even before he slid one hand down Victor's side to urge his hips up a little higher. Victor hooked his ankles around Yuuri's waist, dragging himself up into the angle that made his fingers curl on the next thrust. 

"I could make you come like this, right?" Yuuri asked. He had a good sense for when Victor was relaxed enough to do it, like right now, but just because they could do a thing didn't always mean they should. "Would you like that? Or do you want to sleep faster?"

"I don't care," Victor managed, barely able to draw enough breath to live much less get any oxygen to his brain. Both choices sounded equally delicious, either letting Yuuri draw his orgasm out of him with his perfect, measured thrusts, or jerking himself off with rough strokes while Yuuri was hard inside him and then curling up together, relaxed and sated. 

"Touch yourself," Yuuri ordered, deciding for him. 

Victor reached to do what Yuuri told him, dropping a hand from Yuuri's shoulder to push down towards his cock. He was leaking, precome smeared against both his own stomach and Yuuri's from when they were pressed close together. Victor swiped two fingers through the wetness on his stomach and brought them up to Yuuri's mouth, pressing them against his lower lip. 

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, but he sucked Victor's fingertips into his mouth and licked Victor's taste off of them. Victor moaned shamelessly at the rough feathering of Yuuri's tongue across his fingertips. When he pulled his hand away, Yuuri scolded, "That's not what I told you to do."

"Sorry," Victor panted, not sorry at all. Yuuri's growl to hurry up and do it made Victor shudder pleasantly and sent his hand skittering back down his abs, this time to wrap around his cock like he'd been ordered. 

He wasn't going to last long for sure, not with Yuuri fucking him so deeply or watching him so closely. Victor's palm was clumsy and sweat-slick, but just gripping himself was almost enough when Yuuri looked down at him like that, sharp and heated and like he was the only thing in the world. It was almost enough, so close. "Yuuri…"

He didn't even know what he was asking for, but Yuuri still read him perfectly. "Come for me. I want to feel you do it around me."

Victor sobbed a _yes_ and this time listened on the first try, arching up into Yuuri's body as his own went tense with lightning-soaked pleasure. Yuuri was still fucking him as he came down, overstimulation at its best, and Victor groaned softly on every breath, fingers digging into Yuuri's biceps, until Yuuri drove his hips into Victor as deeply as he could and shuddered himself out. 

Letting his eyes slip shut, Victor heaved a contented sigh at Yuuri's weight on his chest, moving with the quickness of their breath. His legs were still curled around Yuuri, humming at the intermittent tingling of his oversensitive rim clutching at Yuuri as he softened. 

"Should move," Yuuri said, muffled against Victor's skin, still face-down. "Your back."

"It feels quite good now, actually," Victor answered. He wasn't even lying; that last arched stretched had done him a world of good right where he needed it. The endorphins probably hadn't hurt either. "I'm thinking of publishing this as a stretching regimen. The Katsuki-Nikiforov Method."

Yuuri snorted. "Don't drag my name into it, you pervert." He pushed himself up, stretching his own back. Victor whined as the movement drew Yuuri out of him; Yuuri leaned down to kiss his pout. "Clean sheets, remember? Tell me where." Victor whined piteously, and Yuuri slapped the outside of his thigh. "Come on, it'll be worth it."

"I suppooooose," Victor whined, but he let Yuuri roll him out of bed and shuffled stiffly to the bathroom to clean up, returning just in time to help Yuuri stretch the fitted sheet over the corners of the mattress. 

It was worth it when they were warm and clean and curled up in a tight knot in the center of the bed. They talked quietly about moving Yuuri here, about what living in St. Petersburg would be like, both of them starting to fall asleep but Victor still determinedly trying to collect the kisses he'd been so cruelly denied during sex. 

"I can't read any of the signs," Yuuri was murmuring, predictably finding something to fret about right away. "I'll take the wrong train and wind up in Siberia."

"I'll teach you," Victor assured, putting a fingertip on Yuuri's chest and drawing a loopy A. "That one goes 'ah' like _arakhis_ , peanut. This one is 'b,' like you are my tasty _bublik_ …"

"I'm going to marker the kanji for moron on your face while you're asleep," Yuuri hissed, batting Victor's hand away. Victor laughed, not minding at all when Yuuri rolled over as if ignoring him, since it meant that he could curl himself around Yuuri's back and hug Yuuri tight to his chest. 

Yuuri dragged light fingertips down the outside of Victor's arm. "How do you say welcome home?"

" _S vozvrashcheniyem_ ," Victor answered, eyes already closed. 

" _S vozvrashcheniyem_ , Victor," Yuuri murmured, stumbling cutely over the syllables, and Victor pressed his smile against the back of Yuuri's neck. 

It was good to be home.


	3. Fukuoka

Six months ago when Victor had gotten so fed up with house-hunting that he'd declared he was just going to build their perfect house his own fucking self, Yuuri had laughed in his face. Now he was standing in his brand-new kitchen of warm wood cabinets and brushed steel fixtures, sunlight streaming in the over-sized windows, and everything was so new and beautiful that he was almost afraid to touch anything, as if he were a guest here. 

Yuuri had to admit that having a complete nutjob for a husband definitely had its perks. 

"Tell me if you hate it," Victor said from the kitchen doorway, and when Yuuri turned he was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, just watching Yuuri putter around. "I'll tell them to tear it all down and start over, just say the word."

"Don't you DARE," Yuuri laughed, putting his hands on his hips. "I'm going to unpack my suitcase in MY OWN bedroom, take a shower in MY OWN shower, and I'm not getting on another airplane for a year at least!" 

"It's our bedroom and our shower, sweetheart," Victor reminded, taking the couple steps into the kitchen to wrap arms around Yuuri's waist. "And we're flying out to see Four Continents in like a week."

"Shut up, you!" Yuuri said in exasperation, but it melted into a smile when Victor kissed his forehead. "It's beautiful. I can't believe it's real. We spent all that time looking at plans and paint and furniture, but it wasn't real."

"Thanks for waiting." Victor slid his hands into back pockets of Yuuri's jeans, shifting them subtly more closely together. "Now you can finally say it, right?"

Yuuri felt like a small sun was lodged in the center of his chest, filling him with heat and light. " _Tadaima_."

" _Okaeri,_ Yuuri." Victor kissed Yuuri, and Yuuri stretched up on his toes to crush their mouths together, wrapping arms around Victor's neck, breathless with happiness. When Victor pulled away, his eyes were sparkling with it too. "One more surprise. The bed's getting delivered today."

"Today? Really?" Yuuri's grin spread so wide it hurt. "I thought it wasn't coming until Wednesday."

"They had a cancellation. What's the matter, futons not fancy enough for you anymore?" Victor teased. 

"You've ruined me with your European luxury," Yuuri said loftily. "When's it coming? We're not going running if there's any chance we're going to miss it."

"Not until after noon at the earliest, good try."

Yuuri was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of living in Fukuoka. How long would it take to feel like home? As they tested out one of the potential running routes they'd mapped on earlier visits, Yuuri looked around at everything, trying to build a different kind of map in his head. Which conbinis were closest? How long a walk to the station? Where was the grocery store and which vending machines were on the way to their new rink?

It had been hard to leave Hasetsu, but being close to the shinkansen and the international airport seemed like a more pressing concern, at least for now. Even with Victor retired, they traveled so often. And how could Yuuri possibly complain when Victor was a 13-hour flight away from St. Petersburg? The hour's trip to see his parents was nothing compared to that. 

Victor paused at a crosswalk, looking left and right; Yuuri bumped right into his back, jarred from his thoughts. 

"Lost?" Yuuri asked. He had his phone zipped in his running pouch just in case because he didn't trust either one of them yet. 

"Look," Victor said, pointing. Following the line of Victor's finger, Yuuri could just barely see sunlight sparkling off the water of Imazu Bay. "Let's go see if there's seagulls!"

"Of course there are seagulls," Yuuri chuckled, but he found his steps quickening until he was outpacing Victor, eager to see the familiar sight of the ocean. When the smell of saltwater hit his nose, Yuuri thought, _this can be home, too_. 

Coming home to a waterfall shower and a bed delivery didn't hurt that feeling either. 

The bed was ridiculous, no matter how much Victor insisted that it was completely normal for married couples to own a king size. The delivery men could barely fit the mattress through the hallway and had to bring the frame into the room in pieces. Victor hovered anxiously behind them to make sure they didn't scrape marks on the freshly-painted walls. Yuuri dragged Victor downstairs for lunch when he started trying to be helpful, getting him out of the workmen's hair. 

"I can be helpful!" Victor protested. "I helped build the TV stand AND the bookshelves!"

Yuuri snorted into his tea. "My dad let you hammer in two nails to make you feel masculine and then you got bored and went to look at drapery samples." Victor whined that Yuuri was mean. "Shush, the faster they get done the faster I might let you nail me."

"Reeeeally?" Victor asked. He leaned into Yuuri with his shoulder, looking as delighted as if this was the first time Yuuri had suggested that instead of the five hundredth. "We do have to break it in."

"You did build me a whole house." Yuuri smiled when Victor kissed his cheek soundly. "The least I can do in return is put out."

An hour later the bed was successfully assembled and the door was firmly closed behind the delivery men. Yuuri leaned back against the door and gave a showy yawn. 

"Naptime?" Victor asked hopefully. Yuuri was already past him and halfway down the hall before he yelled a competitive, "Race you!" over his shoulder. Victor spluttered as he dashed to catch up, socked feet sliding on the hardwood. "Cheater!"

They made the bed together, both of them laughing about how this was the only time they would ever be excited to do this chore. Once it was finished, they admired it for a whole three seconds before Victor flopped down into the center of it, spread eagle on his back, eyes closed and head tipped back in obvious bliss. Yuuri pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. 

"Post it?" Victor asked at the camera noise, eyes still closed. "Hashtag 'homesweethome.'"

"Perfect," Yuuri agreed, doing as Victor asked and then setting his phone safely on the bedside table. He crawled onto the bed on hands and knees, settling over top of Victor close enough to feel but not resting any weight on him. Victor opened his eyes. "It's perfect here."

"Hm, almost…" Victor settled hands on Yuuri's hips and pulled him down, until he was seated snugly against Victor's lap. "There. Now it's perfect."

They took it slow, no reason to hurry, making out lazily on top of freshly laundered sheets, sunlight pouring through the windows and warm down Yuuri's back. Victor's hands were down the back of Yuuri's sweatpants, squeezing Yuuri's ass every time Yuuri rocked down against him. Yuuri was tracing looping patterns across Victor's collarbones with his mouth and fingertips, their shirts long gone. Mouth unoccupied, Victor was murmuring a litany of terrible pet names, everything from sunbeam to treasure to _kon'kakh_.

Yuuri sat up, wrinkling his nose. "You just called me your little ice skate."

Victor pressed his lips tight together, obviously trying not to smile. "But I love my skates! They're sexy AND useful! No good?" Yuuri gave him an unimpressed stare. "Oh well, there are so many others, my snowflake. My darling melon bread!"

"Are you just trying to get me to shut you up or what?" Yuuri asked, smiling in spite of himself. 

"It doesn't seem to be working, more's the pity," Victor grumbled. He sat up suddenly, wrapping arms around Yuuri's waist and kissing his chest. He tugged on Yuuri's sweatpants. "Lose these, hm? You're too slow."

It was as good a position as any to work Yuuri open, up on his knees and holding Victor's shoulders for balance as Victor slid his fingers in and out. Yuuri was entirely content to let him do all the work, looking down to watch Victor's face and tracing his eyebrows with a thumb where they were furrowed in concentration, until Victor curled his fingers and Yuuri's eyes fluttered shut. When his thighs started to burn a little, Yuuri reached behind to slide his finger in alongside Victor's, trying to hurry things up. 

"Oh my," Victor said in approval, nuzzling Yuuri's stomach. "Should we stay like this?"

"Like this," Yuuri agreed. He pulled his hand free, dragging Victor's hand away by the wrist, and then planted his hands in the middle of Victor's chest to push him back down flat to the bed. 

Victor didn't argue; he always did like it when Yuuri took control. His face said he liked it more than a little when Yuuri was sinking down onto his cock in slow, measured centimeters. It was a lot to take in, no matter how much Yuuri wanted it, and he gritted his teeth against a grunt as his thighs came down on Victor's waist. The sting of it was like sitting in a nearly scalding bath, where it hurt barely at all if he held perfectly still. 

"Breathe," Victor reminded, and the air rushed out of Yuuri's lungs in a harsh exhale. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath. "Are you all right? You look amazing."

"Be fine inna sec," Yuuri panted. He concentrated on the warmth of Victor's hands resting on his thighs, the adoring way Victor was staring up at him. He thought about how worth it it was going to be when Victor was moving against him. "O-okay. I'm all right."

"Liar," Victor said. He curled one hand around Yuuri's cock, working him back to hardness. When Yuuri was mostly there he did start to feel good, pushing his hips up just a little into Victor's grip. He batted Victor's hand away, bracing his hands on his thighs to rock up. "Oh, that's nice."

"Uh-huh," Yuuri agreed. It would be nice when Victor moved too, was nice when he made Yuuri bounce, but at the moment Yuuri was enjoying having all the control for himself. With Victor so deep, Yuuri favored more of a roll of his hips than direct thrusts. He braced his palms on Victor's chest, fingers splayed, grinding in a slow circle as if giving the most obscene lap dance possible, all the more obscene because it was entirely for his own pleasure instead of Victor's. 

Not that Victor wasn't enjoying it too. When Yuuri tossed his head just enough to flip sweaty hair out of his eyes, Victor was watching him with pink cheeks and dark eyes, entirely absorbed in watching Yuuri fucking himself. Victor grinned when their eyes met, raking a slow, purposeful gaze down Yuuri's body from head to knee. 

"You can move," Yuuri panted. He arched his back, groaning softly as the movement slid Victor's cock against exactly the right spot for a second. 

"But you're doing so well on your own," Victor teased, not budging. He ran palms from Yuuri's knees up his thighs and back down again, and Yuuri shivered despite the way the touch went nowhere near his cock. "I used to fantasize about this, you know. After you and Christophe on that pole. A pole would fit perfectly in that corner, wouldn't it?"

Yuuri slid one hand up to pinch Victor's nipple hard, making him squeak. "Are you not listening? Fuck me already."

With a heated grin, Victor did as he was told, gripping Yuuri's waist to hold him steady while he used the bounce of the new mattress in his favor. When he got it just right, Yuuri grunted a "Yeah;" on the next thrust he groaned, quiet but open-throated. 

"Must be doing something right," Victor teased, "for you to get so vocal."

Yuuri opened his eyes just far enough to narrow them at Victor. "Why are you still talking? Am I doing it wrong up here?"

"You're doing it exactly right," Victor assured. Yuuri squeezed himself tight around Victor's cock. Victor moaned unashamedly loudly, and Yuuri cringed for a second before he remembered they had a whole house with no neighbors at all, unlike Victor's apartment. The idea sent a fresh wave of arousal over his skin, and he ground down against Victor with new purpose, until Victor tilted his head back against his pillow, throat bared. " _Yuuri_." 

"Mmhmm," Yuuri agreed, eyes glued to Victor's throat and wishing he could seal his mouth over it and taste the flutter of Victor's pulse, but he sure wasn't getting off Victor's cock to do it. closing his eyes again, he focused on the slide of Victor inside him, hot, rushed, and the noise of their skin slapping together. "Are you close? I'm not waiting for you." He wrapped a hand around his cock to prove that it was true, jerking himself off in time to Victor's pace. 

"So close," Victor told him, voice nearly all air. Victor's hands rubbed restlessly up Yuuri's sides and down to his hips, and if Yuuri opened his eyes he knew he'd find Victor watching him jack himself off. Victor was certainly making enough noise for both of them now, sweet moans mixed in with his stuttered, harsh breaths. He sounded close enough that Yuuri forced his eyes open to see, captivated by the flush spreading down Victor's chest, the way all his muscles were drawn tense, right on the edge.

Victor came first, fingers pressing deep into Yuuri's skin as he shivered his way through it. Yuuri grinned down at him smugly as he felt the throb of it inside himself; he was stilling grinning when Victor blinked his eyes open to peer up at Yuuri hazily. 

"I win," he said, answering Yuuri's smugness with a wide, blissed out smile of his own. 

"Coming first is not winning," Yuuri informed him, rolling his eyes, but really post-orgasm Victor was too cute to argue with, and arguing with him didn't get you anywhere anyway. Confident that he had Victor's full attention, Yuuri focused on getting himself off before Victor slipped out of him, fisting himself roughly, almost, almost there. 

"Let me see you," Victor whined, like Yuuri was holding something he wanted just out of his reach, and Yuuri came unraveled all at once, jaw clenched and fingertips tingling as he spilled over his hand and across Victor's stomach. His breath caught in his throat for long enough that by the time he drew the next one, he was lightheaded, Victor's hands firm on his waist to keep him from losing his balance. "Easy, easy. Mm, such a mess."

Yuuri had caught enough of his breath to murmur sweetly, "I'm going to get up very carefully, and if you roll over and get this mess on the sheets so that we have to change them, I'm going to kill you."

"I love when you sweet-talk me," Victor said dryly, but Yuuri could tolerate a little sass so long as Victor did what he was told. With one more pointed warning glance, Yuuri pushed himself up on trembling thighs and carefully swung one leg over the edge of the bed until his foot touched the floor. He shuffled to the bathroom, stretching, pleasantly sore, to wipe himself off with one of their new towels. When he came back to do the same to Victor, Victor hadn't moved a muscle, still spread-eagle on his back, looking pleased as punch with life. 

"It's gross how happy you are," Yuuri informed him, but he didn't even argue when Victor called him, among other things, his sweet anpan, so Yuuri supposed he was just as gross himself. "We really shouldn't spend the whole afternoon in bed."

"Just a bit longer won't hurt," Victor said, drawing Yuuri back into bed with coaxing hands. "And it's such a marvelous bed."

They laid in bed much longer than was responsible, the sheets thrown across their hips, their heads close enough on the pillow that Yuuri could see Victor's face without squinting, talking about nothing. 

"Do you really like it here?" Victor asked eventually, stroking his thumb over Yuuri's cheek. "I had a nightmare on the plane that you hated everything about it."

"That's ridiculous," Yuuri said, but Victor's slight frown of anxiety made him smile. "Everything's fine. I'm the one who's supposed to be worrying over nothing."

"You are quite good at that," Victor agreed. He slid his hand back into Yuuri's hair, fingertips warm points of comfort against Yuuri's scalp. "Tell me what I can do to make you happy."

"Exist," Yuuri answered, covering Victor's mouth with his own before he could ask any more silly questions.


	4. Hasetsu

They were in the middle of a round of perfectly regulation married sex, just Victor's hand around both their cocks, nothing athletic, when Yuuri's childhood bed gave an alarming creak.

"Did you hear that?" Yuuri asked, picking up his head from the curve of Victor's neck. 

"No," Victor said, because he hadn't heard anything besides Yuuri panting and adorable little noises, and he didn't care about anything besides how good Yuuri's cock felt sliding along his own. Over top of him, Yuuri was frowning, opening his mouth like he was going to say something ridiculous like _stop a minute_ , so Victor surged up to crush their mouths together. For good measure, he rubbed his thumb along the tip of Yuuri's cock, making Yuuri give a sweet, muffled moan into the kiss. 

They were just getting to the really good part, Yuuri's fingers twisting tightly in Victor's hair, when the bed creaked one last warning, and then the right leg of the headboard gave out entirely, dumping the whole corner of the bed to the ground with a bone-jarring crash, everything tilted at a crazy angle. 

For a long second, Victor and Yuuri were frozen in shock, staring at each other, nose-to-nose. 

"Oh my god," Yuuri muttered, already going red in the face, "oh my god oh my god…"

"Shh," Victor tried to soothe, but it was hard when hysterical giggles were threatening to bubble out of his chest at any moment. "It's fine! We're okay! I'm sure nobody even heard—"

"YUU-CHAN, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?!" Yuuri's mother demanded, flinging open the door. Yuuri's father and sister were at her shoulders, and possibly a couple other guests behind. "O-oh! Well!"

"Oh my godddddd," Yuuri muttered, curling up in a ball like a pillbug. Victor gave in and laughed until he cried, trying and failing to drag the blankets back over them at the same time but only managing to spill them out onto the floor from the desperately lopsided bed. 

Yuuri's father shooed off everyone else, looking a bit pink in the face himself, while his mother came over to make sure that they weren't hurt. Yuuri refused to move from his ball on the floor, covered by the blanket they had dragged off the bed; Victor, still hiccuping a little, patted the spot where he thought Yuuri's head might be. 

" _It's fine_ ," Katsuki-san assured them, Victor knowing more than enough Japanese to get the gist by this point. " _That bed was older than you! It was bound to happen sooner or later_."

A faint "Nooooooo" rose up from the blanket lump. Yuuri's mother and Victor exchanged amused smiles. After Victor assured her that both of them were unhurt aside from some bruises, she went to find them some spare futons. When they were alone, Victor tugged on the blanket until Yuuri's face appeared. 

"Please let me Instagram this," Victor begged. 

"I don't care what you do because I've died," Yuuri moaned, eyes squeezed shut. "Just leave me to rot on the floor!"

Ignoring Yuuri's melodramatics (exactly why did everybody keep saying Victor was too over the top?), Victor hopped up to snap a few pictures, uploaded the best one, and captioned it "Things got a little TOO HOT at the onsen!!! #notninja #sorrykatsukimama" followed by one blushing emoji and one kissy face. 

Katsuki-san was back by then with the futons, wishing them a quiet rest of the night once she'd been reassured that neither one of them was hurt. Victor didn't bother trying to fight with Yuuri, but just rolled him over onto the futon like an awkward turtle and left him alone, stretching out on his own back to enjoy the tidal wave of social media attention. 

Eventually Yuuri uncurled and stuck his head out, whining. Victor dropped his phone to kiss it better, gathering him in close to his chest and murmuring that his pink cheeks were the cutest. 

"Oh, shut up," Yuuri said miserably, hugging Victor tightly around the chest. 

"But they'll have to get a new bed, right?" Victor coaxed. Yuuri blinked up at him in confusion. Victor winked. "And you know what _that_ means…"

"You're _impossible_ ," Yuuri said, hiding his face in the curve of Victor's neck. 

Victor ran his hand down Yuuri's spine, smiling into his hair when it made him shiver. "You wouldn't have me any other way."

Showed what he knew, Yuuri thought, pressing teeth against Victor's shoulder until he sighed. Once the new bed was here, he'd definitely be having Victor in all the other ways.


End file.
